A Shadowy Alcove
by verdant quest
Summary: LMHG ficlet. In the days after the War Hermione is tricked. Fluff.


_**a shadowy alcove and a waltz by candlelight (PG)**_

Even before she felt the strong hand on her shoulder she knew he was there. It was odd that after so long she could recognize his mere presence, but then he'd always had a profound effect of her senses. Even when she was first confronted with him at Flourish and Blotts bookshop in Diagon Alley the summer before second year she had known him on some level. Maybe it wasn't so surprising too that she identified not only his presence but his scent and aura, years of identifying potions by their odor and reading people's magical capacity had honed her abilities to sum up an individual's potential threat.  
She turned and her brown eyes must have reflected some emotion because he half smiled back at her.

"My dear you should rejoin the other guests. This room is my private study and I doubt it holds much interest to a beautiful young woman, unlike Malfoy Manor's ballroom. Allow me to escort you back to the festivities."

He extended his bent forearm for her use and guided her limp hand with his own to rest atop his robe's sleeve. He did not wait for her to make an excuse for entering his private rooms or to avoid returning with him, but led her firmly yet graciously away from the darkened, silent alcove.

Narcissa Malfoy had not been as fortunate as her husband in escaping imprisonment and the Wizarding World's equivalent to the death penalty--the dementor's kiss. No doubt political connections had had a good deal to do with the Malfoy's general good luck with dealing with Ministry charges, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Lucius and Draco had not pulled too many strings to help Narcissa Black Malfoy. The thought was unpleasant, but so had the lady been. She had been easily swayed by her sister's coaching when Bella Lestrange had been in contact after escaping Azkaban Prison and escaping the Ministry officials who had caught many of the Deatheaters at The Department of Mysteries. Narcissa had used Bellatrix's behaviour as a model for how to live her life up until the end of the war.

She was pulled from her thoughts as they arrived at the head of the stairs into the brightly lit ballroom. Hundreds of the most prestigious wizards and witches in the world had gathered here to join in congratulating the Malfoy heir at winning the hand of the illustrious Saviour of the Wizarding World.

She had suspected that Harry was hiding something from Ron and herself after the Final Battle when Harry was frantically searching for a particular wizard throughout the dead and the wounded left on the field. Her suspicions had been proven aright when she saw him sobbing in relief over the injured Slytherin Prince. Draco had evidently switched sides to join the Light after falling for Harry Potter, Boy Wonder.

'Much like a rat abandoning a sinking ship' she hadn't been able to stop herself from thinking.

Still Draco was trying to make amends for his past insults and injuries. He had invited her to the engagement party himself and had been faultlessly polite, even charming. Her only concern was that he had made one comment that left her uneasy about agreeing to attend:

"My father always says that no price is too great to have what you want in your life. Even if it means sacrificing your ideals. I know he'd love to discuss how his ideals have changed lately, Granger. He'd especially like it if he could have that discussion with YOU."

She almost mentioned the comment to her companion, but hesitated a moment too long.  
"Attention, please. WE would like to officially welcome all of you to Malfoy Manor. I know that my son and future son-in-law are particularly proud to be celebrating the start of their lives together with everyone who was able to attend tonight. May I suggest that we engage in some dancing.

aside Maestro.

aside Draco, Harry, why don't you start us off?" Harry and Draco went out onto the dance floor and waited for the music to begin.

Lucius, however, was not quite done with his announcements,  
"In fact WE would like to invite all the couples here to share a dance." 

Without giving anyone an opportunity to blink he nearly dragged her across the to the very center of the floor, expertly guiding her into his embrace and the soft orchestra music began with a romantic waltz.

Then she noticed that although many of the guests had followed the lead of their hosts, speculative glances and whispers were being directed at herself and Lucius.

Her voice was dry as she addressed him, "very subtle, Luciano. It actually took me a moment to catch your drift. Next time you propose to a woman, however, allow me to suggest you ask her before announcing it to half the population of the globe."

He chuckled, "Hermia, my darling, it wouldn't be nearly as entertaining as getting the shocked expressions of all of you at once." 

Hermione didn't bother to pretend to be bothered by this typical Lucius-ian moment. After all who could argue with calculating, pureblood perfection?  
She leaned into his arms and breathed in the scent of his bayberry and pine scented skin.

'Well, despite his past behavior and Slytherin-pureblood ideals, Draco is correct, ideals and people do change with enough motivation.

And as they say: All's well that end's well.'  
Fin


End file.
